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Academics.
The noun. Not the adjective.
The B1G is led by of a bunch of worthless academics. Academics who were born into money. Never put in an honest days work. Their vision for their universities and ultimately the world is based on a utopian theory that will never come into fruition. They value feelings over facts. They hide in their ivory towers as small businesses in Lincoln are forced to close as a result of their own incompetence and arrogance.
The University of Nebraska, as a whole, is led by good, honest people who did it the hard way. Moos. Frost. Green. They earned their money. They understand the lives of 90% of Americans and 95% of Nebraskans. They worked hard to get where they are. The value facts over feelings. And they clearly don’t give a shit about ruffling the B1G feathers.
Through all of the bullshit that the B1G has bestowed upon us since we joined, and especially over the past three months, I have been a silent proponent of staying in the B1G. The money is just too good.
After some careful reflection over our values versus their values, I have not changed my mind. Let’s continue to be the red-headed stepchild. Let’s embrace it. Let’s put in the work, and despite all odds, become a thorn in the side of this fucked up conference.
We are witnessing the epitome of Garth Brooks’ song “Friends in Low Places.”
Well, guess what Kevin Warren. Scott Frost has 90,000 friends in low places that show up every Saturday in the fall. And he’s got over a million more who pile into The Railyard, who drink Bud Heavy with the old-timers at Harry’s Wonderbar, who nearly fall off the balcony of Barry’s in a drunken celebration each time the Huskers score, and who drink skunked Keystone from a moldy keg at their deadbeat cousins shithole in the north bottoms each week.
I, for one, think this song should be played loud and proud over our stadium speakers every time a team from the B1G led by one of these incompetent needle-dicks comes to memorial stadium. A rallying call to the Husker faithful, and a big “Fuck You” to Kevin, Barry, and the COP.
Seriously, how relatable are these lyrics to our current situation:
“Blame it all on my roots
I showed up in boots
And ruined your black tie affair
The last one to know
The last one to show
I was the last one you thought you'd see there
And I saw the surprise
And the fear in his eyes
When I took his glass of champagne
And I toasted you
Said "honey, we may be through"
But you'll never hear me complain
'Cause I've got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think I'll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, I've got friends in low places
Well, I guess I was wrong
I just don't belong
But then, I've been there before
Everything's all right
I'll just say goodnight
And I'll show myself to the door
Hey, I didn't mean
To cause a big scene
Just give me an hour and then
Well, I'll be as high as that ivory tower
That you're livin' in
'Cause I've got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think I'll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, I've got friends in low places”
The noun. Not the adjective.
The B1G is led by of a bunch of worthless academics. Academics who were born into money. Never put in an honest days work. Their vision for their universities and ultimately the world is based on a utopian theory that will never come into fruition. They value feelings over facts. They hide in their ivory towers as small businesses in Lincoln are forced to close as a result of their own incompetence and arrogance.
The University of Nebraska, as a whole, is led by good, honest people who did it the hard way. Moos. Frost. Green. They earned their money. They understand the lives of 90% of Americans and 95% of Nebraskans. They worked hard to get where they are. The value facts over feelings. And they clearly don’t give a shit about ruffling the B1G feathers.
Through all of the bullshit that the B1G has bestowed upon us since we joined, and especially over the past three months, I have been a silent proponent of staying in the B1G. The money is just too good.
After some careful reflection over our values versus their values, I have not changed my mind. Let’s continue to be the red-headed stepchild. Let’s embrace it. Let’s put in the work, and despite all odds, become a thorn in the side of this fucked up conference.
We are witnessing the epitome of Garth Brooks’ song “Friends in Low Places.”
Well, guess what Kevin Warren. Scott Frost has 90,000 friends in low places that show up every Saturday in the fall. And he’s got over a million more who pile into The Railyard, who drink Bud Heavy with the old-timers at Harry’s Wonderbar, who nearly fall off the balcony of Barry’s in a drunken celebration each time the Huskers score, and who drink skunked Keystone from a moldy keg at their deadbeat cousins shithole in the north bottoms each week.
I, for one, think this song should be played loud and proud over our stadium speakers every time a team from the B1G led by one of these incompetent needle-dicks comes to memorial stadium. A rallying call to the Husker faithful, and a big “Fuck You” to Kevin, Barry, and the COP.
Seriously, how relatable are these lyrics to our current situation:
“Blame it all on my roots
I showed up in boots
And ruined your black tie affair
The last one to know
The last one to show
I was the last one you thought you'd see there
And I saw the surprise
And the fear in his eyes
When I took his glass of champagne
And I toasted you
Said "honey, we may be through"
But you'll never hear me complain
'Cause I've got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think I'll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, I've got friends in low places
Well, I guess I was wrong
I just don't belong
But then, I've been there before
Everything's all right
I'll just say goodnight
And I'll show myself to the door
Hey, I didn't mean
To cause a big scene
Just give me an hour and then
Well, I'll be as high as that ivory tower
That you're livin' in
'Cause I've got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think I'll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, I've got friends in low places”
